A/N: another imagined conversation between William and Julia and pure speculation on my part...

Late November, 1907

It was a cold, damp evening in Toronto, and once again Dr. Julia Ogden was glad that Frank Lloyd Wright had designed a broad fireplace for the parlor of the new home she shared with her husband, William. On a late Autumn night like such as that one, having a fire glowing brightly on the hearth was a pleasant way to chase away the slight chill that had settled on the house.

As she sipped her sherry, she sat gazing into the crackling blaze as it cast dancing shadows across the large room. Normally she'd be spending these quiet hours with William, but, claiming to be extremely fatigued, he'd picked up his book and had retired to their bedroom early that evening, leaving her to enjoy her comfortable chair and the warmth of the fire alone, in bleak, sullen silence.

She knew William well enough to realize that something was bothering him, as he'd been both unusually reticent and extremely irritable over the past few days. As a naturally introverted person, he was usually quite reserved around people he didn't know well, but he was almost never at a loss for words when the two of them were together. He could carry on an intelligent conversation about a wide variety of topics, ranging from the mundane to the arcane, if he was as comfortable with someone as he was with her. It just took him a period of adjustment before he felt at ease enough to let his genius shine through without fear of being judged as being too intellectual...probably, she realized sadly, due to some of the terrible traumas he'd endured during his childhood, both at home and, apparently, at school.

She felt as if she'd been privileged to see the genuine William Murdoch over the years...the clever, engaging, personable man he truly was...the man with a gentle sense of humor...the wonderful man she loved with all her heart.

In the past few weeks, however, he'd been terribly distracted and inwardly focused, even more so than normal, and much to Julia's frustration, he'd refused to discuss what was behind the change in his demeanor. He'd steadfastly denied that anything was bothering him, but as far as she was concerned, it was obvious that he was hiding something from her.

She wondered if perhaps his unwillingness to share his troubles could be attributed to the difficult case he'd recently closed. The murder had been extremely tragic, and solving the crime had been less than satisfying, even for someone as determined to gain the truth as her husband was. The lack of communication between the parties involved in the terrible affair had led to suspicion...jealousy...and ultimately, to murder. All of the pain and grief that resulted from an impulsive crime might've been avoided if the perpetrator and the victim had just talked plainly to each other about what each of them had been feeling.

Why is it that people never understand that simple truth? Communication is the key to avoiding so much sorrow...but so few people are willing to give it a try. Sighing softly, Julia shook her head. Even my brilliant husband hasn't learned that lesson as of yet...

Was the murder case the reason he'd been so stubbornly taciturn that evening? He'd seemed determined to rebuff her every attempt to begin a conversation over dinner. No matter what topic was introduced, he had nothing to say...he'd even refused to discuss Mr. Tesla's latest invention. William not wanting to talk about Nicola Tesla? Something is definitely wrong...

She nodded resolutely as she watched the colorful sparks float upward from the dying embers on the hearth. She was a skilled investigator in her own right, and she could be just as determined as William was when it came to ferreting out the truth of an issue. It was time to take matters into her own hands. She'd make him tell her what was on his mind, whether he liked it or not. She set her glass aside and rose from her chair. After banking the fire, she turned and purposefully strode toward her bedroom.

We need to talk to each other! That's the only way to move past this problem...we need to get it out in the open, or it'll cause a permanent rift between us. Now I just need to convince that very stubborn husband of mine to tell me about his troubles...

Oooooooooo

After changing into her nightgown, Julia sat down at her dressing table to take down her hair. Watching from her mirror, she stole a sly glance at her husband to see if he'd noticed what she was doing. There had been many a night when he'd been fascinated by her evening rituals...he seemed to enjoy watching her unpin her curls and shake out her tawny mane...probably because he relished running his fingers through those long silky tresses as they made love.

Tonight, however, found him concentrating on his book, studiously avoiding her gaze.

She chuckled softly as she ran a brush through her hair. "Have you fallen asleep over your book, William? You haven't turned a page in the last few minutes…"

"What?" Startled, he looked up at her, trying to shrug off her question. "No...I was just thinking about how Bateson and his approach to genetics contrasts so greatly with Mendel's studies on the same subject. The differences between the two schools of thought are quite dramatic, and it makes me wonder if there will ever be any agreement on the matter."

"I see. Just a bit of light reading to calm your mind before you settle down for the night." Turning in her chair, she giggled as she wound a blonde curl around her finger. "So...why the sudden interest in genetics?"

"It's not sudden...surely you must know that I've been interested in genetics for several years." Closing his book, he lay it aside and sighed in frustration. "I don't know why I was pondering it at this moment, however. I suppose I was just trying to gain some insight into the nature versus nurture argument. Hector Robinson...the killer in my most recent case...he has a violent temper, just like his father and his grandfather before him. In your studies of psychiatry, have you come across any information about that? Is it possible that those sort of aberrant tendencies are inherited?"

Julia nodded thoughtfully as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I suppose they could be, if some sort of mental illness was involved, but I think it more likely that those men had violent tempers because they were exposed to violent tempers from childhood. Thinking that was the only way to solve their problems, they never learned to behave in any other way except to become violent."

William nodded as he considered her statement. "I suppose that's true…they all seem to react with a great deal of anger at the slightest provocation...and that extreme ill temper ultimately led to Hector committing murder."

"Sad, but true." Shivering slightly, she slid under the bedclothes and snuggled next to her husband. "However, I'd rather talk about what's really been troubling you…" As he began to speak, she held up her hand to interrupt. "...and no, I don't mean with the case. You haven't been yourself recently, William. On Monday you scolded George soundly over a minor mistake, and you raised your voice to the inspector yesterday over a slight disagreement about investigative procedures. Don't look so surprised...I heard you yelling in his office! And you've refused to talk to me this evening about anything other than what we were having for dinner. What is going on? What's wrong? Is something bothering you? Are you annoyed with me for some reason?"

His response was immediate and succinct. "There's no need for an extensive analysis of the situation. I'm not annoyed with you, and nothing is wrong. I'm simply tired of dealing with careless errors at work, and that's all there is to it."

"William Henry Murdoch! I've never known you to lie to me! Don't start now!," she chided, pretending to be irritated. Running her hand down his chest, she laughed softly. "You know, when I met with Father Clements before we were wed, for instruction about what your Church believes, he told me that open communication between husband and wife is the key to a good marriage...that it could prevent many misunderstandings that lead to more serious problems..."

"How could a celibate man know what would make for a good marriage?," William grumbled, glaring at his wife. "That's ridiculous.! He has no experience in the matter..."

"If you remember, when the subject came up, those were my thoughts exactly, but you encouraged me to meet with him for counseling." She giggled at his aggravated groan. "As I recall, even after he agreed that we could marry in the Church, you were still adamant that I talk to him about matters of faith…" Giving him a sly wink, she chuckled. "As a matter of fact, you were quite vehement on the subject, so I went to see him to make you happy, and now you must pay the price for your folly." Julia smiled tenderly as she put her arm around her husband's waist. "So please...tell me what is bothering you…"

Sighing softly, he turned away from her, focusing his gaze on their bedroom's darkened window. "I...I'm afraid you'll think less of me…"

"Surely you must know that isn't possible. I love you unconditionally, and there's nothing you could do that would make me think less of you…," Julia began as she put her hand on his arm. "Please?"

"This is different…this is a character flaw...a flaw I'm ashamed of..." William shook his head somberly. "I broke a promise...a solemn vow, actually...a vow I'd made to someone I loved very much." Seeing his wife's confusion, he cleared his throat as he pulled away from her. "You know today's date, of course…"

"Yes...November 30…"

Swallowing hard, he whispered softly, in a strained voice. "...and the anniversary of Liza's death was November 7...over three weeks ago...and I completely forgot about it…"

Unable to see the problem, Julia's brow furrowed in uncertainty. "But William...she died over 14 years ago! It's perfectly normal to forget an exact date of something like that...especially as busy as you've been recently..."

"But I promised her that I would always remember her!" He sniffled slightly as he wiped away a tear with his knuckle. "Every year on November 7, I visit her grave...I take her yellow roses, which were her favorite flowers...I ask my priest to say a Requiem Mass to for her...and I didn't even think about any of those things until four days ago, when I happened to look at the calendar to check on a court date…" Exhaling slowly, he shook his head in sorrow. "I can't believe I forgot something so important…and now it's too late..."

Julia paused slightly, listening quietly to her husband's sad sighs. Of all of the problems and secrets she believed he might've been withholding, this thought had never occurred to her, and she wasn't sure what to say to assuage his guilt. "Well...perhaps a date by itself isn't as important as actually remembering the woman she was." Snuggling closer, she gazed into his dark eyes, saddened to see the tears that filled them. "Will you tell me about her?"

"Why should I?" He grunted in annoyance. "You knew her from when we first started working together, remember?"

Shrugging slightly, she nestled under his arm and embraced him. "I know I'd met her, but I don't know many details about her, and I'd like to know more, because it might help me understand how you feel about this issue. So, tell me...how did you two meet?"

"At church." In spite of how upset he was, he smiled faintly as he recalled the circumstances from so long ago. "I was filling in for the detective at Station House 2, and I'd been out on a call early on a Sunday morning. It was too late to make it to my own church for Mass, so I visited a parish in that area instead...St. Benedict's, right around the corner from the station." Tenderly rubbing Julia's arm, he continued in a low voice. "I was almost late, so I slipped in and sat in the last pew, behind this couple...and I couldn't help but notice that the woman sitting in front of me had the most beautiful dark red hair...it was so intricately curled and braided under her hat...and it shone like a red satin ribbon…" He laughed softly. "It was so fascinating to study her hair that I had no idea what the homily was about that morning…"

Of course he noticed her hair… Julia smiled to herself. William was so very predictable. "Then what happened?"

He paused before continuing as he remembered that day. "When it was time to pass the peace, the red haired woman turned around and smiled at me...and her encouraging expression led me to understand that she wanted to get to know me better..."

"Of course she did." Giggling softly, Julia gave William a gentle squeeze. "After all, she was looking at a very handsome man."

"Julia…really..." He rolled his eyes at her as he continued. "I was somewhat taken aback by the woman's incredible smile and the appraising glance in her pretty green eyes, since she was there with a man, but I had to admit...it was quite pleasant, having such a beautiful woman notice me like that." Raising an eyebrow at his wife's amused scoff, he continued. "After the service, the man introduced himself as Steven Milner, and then he introduced his sister, Liza. He was a seminarian home from school for a brief amount of time…and he said that Liza had asked him to introduce us." He shrugged at Julia's unspoken question. "For some reason, she didn't think it would be proper to introduce herself. She told me later that she was afraid of seeming too forward."

"I see...and then, before long, you were courting her? It sounds as if she was most agreeable to receiving your advances."

"It took several visits to the Widow Milner's house for tea before Liza's mother actually consented to our courting, and then only with the idea that my intentions were honorable...that we'd marry at some point. It took some convincing, because, after all, as Mrs. Milner never failed to remind me, I was a 'mere policeman' and her charming daughter deserved so much better...but, as it was, we courted for almost a year before becoming engaged right before Christmas, 1893…"

"I remember how happy you both were when you announced the news at the station." Julia sighed softly. "I must confess, however...I was somewhat envious of Liza, and I'm not sure I hid it all that well. Fortunately, it seems Liza never suspected how jealous I was..."

William looked at Julia with surprise. "Jealous? Really? Why?"

"I'd begun to realize how rare a commodity you were, William." Averting her gaze, she shrugged as she twisted her wedding ring around her finger. "I suppose my envy was because Liza was lucky enough to find someone like you...a well respected officer of the law...a handsome, honest, intelligent man who obviously loved her so dearly...so tenderly...and I was alone…with no prospects, to speak of..."

"You were hardly alone during that period of your life, Julia. If I remember correctly, you had several gentlemen interested in pursuing you, right? An accountant...a solicitor...a banker...even a funeral director..." He grimaced in distaste. "...although it always seemed to me that none of your suitors were worthy of a wonderful woman like you…"

Smirking at him, she raised an eyebrow. "So...you were paying attention to who my gentlemen callers were, were you? And you thought I was a wonderful woman? While you were engaged to another? Shame on you, William..."

"Perhaps I should be ashamed, but maybe not for all of those things." He tried to suppress a grin. "However, I did go to the funeral parlor and flash my badge at the undertaker before suggesting that he leave you alone…"

"William! You didn't!" Julia's eyes grew wide in surprise. "I've always wondered why he decided to stop seeing me…"

"You dealt with death all day at work. I didn't think you needed to keep company with someone who made it his business as well…and you never did seem to like him all that much..."

"And perhaps you figured out that he was close to proposing marriage...until someone interfered without being asked and ruined those prospects." She giggled as he tried to look contrite. "By the way, thank you for that. The man was insufferable…"

William rolled his eyes. "Why not just tell him goodbye? That seems an easy solution..."

She shrugged. "As I said...I didn't have many prospects at the time, and I wasn't sure I was willing to take my chances on my own…"

"But as a very attractive woman, you wouldn't have had to worry about that…surely you would've found a husband if you wanted one badly enough."

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Julia raised an eyebrow at him. "I see. So let me get this straight. You were engaged to marry Liza, but you still thought that I was very attractive…"

"Any man in his right mind would notice that you were very attractive, Julia. I'm not embarrassed to admit noticing that as well." Shifting nervously next to her, William pursed his lips slightly. "I've always admired your intelligence...and your beauty, but it would've been quite unseemly of me to comment on it or on the fact that other men were not fully appreciating you...especially since I was betrothed to another woman. I was going to marry Liza and be happy...no matter how attractive I found you to be. That was the way things were supposed to work."

Giggling softly, Julia nodded slightly. "I see. Well, anyway, I believe you're correct about my previous gentlemen friends. None of them appreciated me for who I was...not like you did. They all wanted to change me into someone else...into their version of a dutiful, submissive wife…"

William chuckled as he patted her hand. "I should've told them that they were wasting their time in that pursuit…"

Laughing, she pretended to slap his arm. "No wonder I was left on the shelf! I think you were acting like an overzealous big brother, chasing away anyone who seemed the slightest bit interested in me..."

"I prefer to think of it as being your very protective friend. After all, I had your best interests at heart…"

"And you wouldn't have cared if I married one of those unappreciative gentlemen?"

Hesitating for a minute, he shook his head. "I'm not sure…but we don't have to worry about that now, do we?"

"No...we don't." Julia brushed her hair over her shoulder and nestled under her husband's arm again. "So...why the long courtship between you two? Why didn't you and Liza just marry and get it over with? Not that I'm complaining, but..."

He puffed out another sad sigh. "Liza wanted to wait until after her brother's ordination to the priesthood so he could preside at the ceremony for us. It was going to be another year to wait, but of course, wanting to make her happy, I agreed, thinking that we'd still have plenty of time to enjoy our married life together, but…"

Julia moaned softly. "...but she was already ill with consumption. Oh, William...that's so very sad…"

He swallowed hard. "She hadn't been feeling well for quite some time, but we thought she was simply tired from caring for her mother, who had dropsy. I remember…" He paused, wiping away a tear. "I remember...when she told me that she had consumption...I was so horribly stunned. It was like...like…"

"...like the end of the world…" Julia took his hand into hers. "I'm so sorry you had to face that dreadful news, William..."

"Yes...exactly. Like the end of the world. I felt as if I'd been hit by a train. I had everything I'd ever wanted, and I was going to have to sit by and watch it slip from my grasp without being able to stop it from happening. I kept hoping against hope that she'd recover, but..." Struggling to maintain his composure, he continued quietly. "I begged her to move up the date for our wedding...to marry me immediately...but she refused." He chewed his lip as he stared at Julia's hand, running his thumb across her wedding ring. "She was concerned that if we consummated our marriage...if she came to be with child...that the child wouldn't survive through her illness...or if it did, that I'd be left to care for an infant with no one to help me, since her mother was also quite ill…"

"I suppose I can understand how she felt.," Julia whispered. "Even if it was a terribly unhappy choice to make…"

He nodded sadly. "Liza was a very practical woman, and I knew she was correct in her decision, but it still hurt me deeply...to carry that pain...the pain of not having a child together...along with the pain of watching her fade away a little bit every day…I soon found I could think of little else." He drew a shuddering breath. "And then, after several months, at last we came to the end of it. I sat at her bedside, holding her hand as she struggled to breathe...wishing I could help her, even though I knew there was nothing that could be done...and she turned to me and said 'promise you won't forget me, William', and I made that promise...that solemn vow...before God. She whispered that she loved me...and then suddenly she was gone." He tilted his head to one side, pressing his lips together in sorrow. "And after she was gone, all I had left of my fiancee was a few objects to remember her by...my watch...a silver horse pendant I'd given her...her photograph...but no family...no child...nothing more than a few trinkets. Her mother died a few weeks later. Her brother took his Holy Orders the following Spring...a week before the date we'd chosen for our wedding. He left Canada to do mission work in British Guinana...but he died a year later from yellow fever. So...you see...I'm the only one left to remember Liza...and it seems as if even I've forgotten my promise to remember her after all these years…"

"Oh, William…" Trying to comfort him as he openly wept, Julia caressed his cheek. "I'm sure she knew how much you loved her...and I'm sure, in accordance with your beliefs, she knows you still think of her…she knows you haven't forgotten her."

Seeing that he was unconvinced, she patted his thigh as she pulled away from his embrace. "Don't go away."

Rising from the bed, she walked over to her dressing table and looked through an ornately carved wooden box. "Here we are…"

Returning to their bed, she handed William an envelope. "I think you need to read this…"

A whiff of rose scented perfume still clung to the ivory paper. He gasped softly as he looked at the faded ink. "This is Liza's stationary...and her handwriting." Seeing Julia nod, he removed the folded paper and cautiously smoothed it with his hand before beginning to read.

-o-o-o-

September 30, 1893

Dear Dr. Ogden ,

I hope you will forgive the familiarity with which I address you, even though we are merely acquaintances, but after reading this letter, I feel sure you will understand my reasons.

I am imposing on you based solely on your friendship with my beloved William. I fear that soon he will need such a good friend as you for support and guidance in what will prove to be a very difficult time of loss for him.

As I'm sure he has informed you, I have been quite ill with consumption. He, in his dear, cheerful manner, has made an effort to buoy my spirits by insisting that we will see our wedding day next May, but I have come to realize that this is simply not to be. He does not like me to speak thus of the matter, but, alas, it is true.

As is also true to his character, he has thrown himself completely into caring for me and also my frail mother. He has moved into our house so he can see to our needs over his own needs. He comes in from his difficult work at the end of the day and makes sure we are comfortable before he has his meal. Every evening he sits at my bedside to hold my hand and tell me of his love for me. He is so patient...so kind...spending every spare moment with me...caring for me as I lay as an invalid...as I slowly die from this horrible disease. Who could ask for a more wonderful man?

However, in the end, all of his care and concern will make no difference. I will not recover from this illness. I have resigned myself to the situation. I know that soon I will be in Heaven with my Lord and Saviour, but still I worry about the future of those I shall leave behind.

So, you may ask...why is this your concern? I do not ask a favour for myself so much as for my dear William. I know how deeply he loves me, and he will grieve just as deeply, of course...but please do not let him cling to my memory forever. We will find each other again in the next life. Please ask him to let me go...to release both himself and me...to rejoin the living once his period of mourning is over.

And so, at the risk of being presumptuous, I am asking this favour of you...that after my passing, you would be there for him as his friend...as someone to offer him solace while he grieves. I know he thinks a great deal of you, Dr. Ogden. He has often told me what a wonderful woman you are, so I ask this one thing of you...please take care of him for me. It would put my heart at ease to know that he has someone like you in his life...someone who cares for him as I do.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter.

With kindest regards,

Liza Milner

-o-o-o-

"Reading this letter...it's like hearing Liza's voice again." Sniffling as he gently folded the page, William inserted it back into the envelope and then handed it to Julia. Exhaling slowly, he tried to smile. "I'm surprised you've kept it all this time."

"I knew she was right...that some day I'd have to remind you that it was time to love someone again...whether it be me, or someone else." Julia ran her fingers along the envelope's edge. "She understood you so well, William. I think you would've been happy together had she lived to marry…"

"I think so, too." He drew a shivering breath. "But she had already explained to me that I should move on with my life." Seeing Julia's surprised expression, he tried to explain. "Those words she wrote in the note...about letting her go...I've heard them before...once...when I visited that medium, Miss Pensall. It was when we had the case involving Conan Doyle and the Spiritualist Society. I was trying to prove Miss Pensall was a fraud, so she offered to conduct a seance for me...during which she said those same things to me, almost verbatim…she told me that Liza said that I would love again and that I needed to let her go. I tried later to talk to Liza again, but she had left...and that was the end of it. I realized had to make the decision to participate in life again."

"You had to rejoin the living." Julia nodded slowly. "Just as she said…"

"Yes." Somewhat embarrassed, he took Julia's hand. "Um...at any rate, It seems that Liza, being practical as always, bequeathed my upkeep to your care...because she somehow knew how much I admired you…and cared for you..."

"I think she was hoping that our friendship would grow into something more, which it did, very soon after that case, remember?." Julia smiled as her husband embraced her tenderly. "Liza was obviously a very intelligent woman…"

"Well, of course she was...after all, she agreed to marry me…" William laughed at Julia's annoyed expression. "As did you, eventually."

"Yes, as I did, eventually. So I've kept my promise to Liza, just as you have over all these years." Julia kissed William's lips tenderly. "Shall we go visit her tomorrow and take her some yellow roses?"

"I'd like that very much." He smiled as he pulled Julia closer. "However...there is one more thing I need to tell you...another secret, if you will…"

"Another one?" She frowned slightly. "What is it?"

"Many years ago...when I fell off the building while chasing that criminal…"

She eyed him suspiciously. "You mean, during that time when you were courting Mrs. Jones?"

"Um...yes, I suppose so, but that's not the point…"

"Hmmph." Julia narrowed her eyes at him. "Well? Go on..."

"Well, while I was laying there in my bed, delirious, I dreamt of you...and it was actually quite pleasant. You were in bed next to me in just your camisole and bloomers...with your hair loose on the pillow…so close to me...you rubbed my arm, and I could reach out and touch you...I wanted nothing more than to stay right there in bed with you all day..."

"Get to the point…"

"Oh...well, in the dream you told me that we never love the same way twice." He reached up to tenderly stroke her hair. "And over the years, I've come to realize what you said in the dream was true, because…" Sighing deeply, he looked into her blue eyes with adoration. "...because even as much as I loved Liza, and I truly did love her...even so, I've come to realize that I love you so much more…so much more that I can't explain it...so much more that I don't understand how it's possible to feel this way...and yet, my love for you grows deeper with every day that goes by…"

"And I love you very much as well." Reaching for the switch above their bed, she turned off the lights. "Why don't you let me show you just how much…"

"Gladly." He drew her near and kissed her tenderly. "Thank you for adopting me as your own, Julia, so Liza wouldn't have to worry about me…"

"Well, as she hoped, you may see her in the next life, and then you can thank her yourself, but not for many years to come...and until then…" Julia laughed as William enveloped her in his embrace. "I'm going to enjoy every minute I get to spend with you in this life."